


February 1st, 2015

by BlackDog9314



Series: Rhapsodic 'Verse Time-Stamps [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, POV Dean Winchester, Rhapsodic 'verse, time-stamp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 11:26:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11599674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackDog9314/pseuds/BlackDog9314
Summary: Dean finds out what happened to Castiel at Heaven and Hell.





	February 1st, 2015

**Author's Note:**

> This time-stamp is essentially the end of chapter 23 from Dean's perspective. Please read the tags, as Castiel's sexual assault is implied/referenced.  
> I've wanted to tell Dean's side of that story for a while, now. This is still somewhat abbreviated, but I hope you like it.  
> To read the main work these one shots are written to accompany, click [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2660231/chapters/5945528).

Castiel looked like shit when he and Benny came out of the crowded frathouse. He was stumbling and clinging to Benny as if for dear life, his dark hair plastered to his forehead as he said something to Dean’s friend.

Dean felt a stab of annoyance at the thought of helping Castiel back to his apartment when the guy was clearly wasted drunk, and decided to try and get the task over with as quickly as possible. Steeling himself, he began to walk toward Benny and Castiel, pointedly ignoring the meaningful look Benny was trying to give him.

Dean never should have told him he had feelings for Cas. Ever since he had, Benny had been bothering him about his relationship with Lisa.

Thinking of Lisa made Dean feel even more vexed, and when he took Castiel off of Benny’s hands, he wasn’t as gentle as he knew he could have been.

Castiel couldn’t stop throwing up on their way to the apartment, and Dean thanked their lucky stars that there wasn’t a university cop hanging around that part of campus. He was starting to wonder if Castiel was having a bad reaction to some drug he and Meg might have taken; his skin felt like fire under Dean’s hands, and he was vomiting bile.

Dean tried to continue being angry at him, but he began to feel concerned when they finally reached the apartment and Castiel kept mumbling about sleeping and needing to get clean.  He wasn’t enunciating any of his words and it was somewhat difficult to understand him, and he kept looking this way and that, his deep blue eyes unfocused and afraid.

Castiel’s full lips were swollen from more than how much he’d thrown up, Dean saw when they went into the bathroom and weren’t walking around in the dark; he also had what was clearly a hickey on one side of his neck.

Involuntarily, Dean thought of what Castiel had said the night they’d played ‘Never Have I Ever’ a few months before, and of his unintentional admission that he was still a virgin.

Dean felt something heavy materialize in his stomach, but he did his best to keep calm.

However, it was when Castiel began to cry in earnest that Dean was able to acknowledge to himself that yes, he was scared for his friend. The fear, hot and dark and bitter, rushed through him as Dean hurriedly reached out to wipe the tears from Castiel’s flushed face. 

“You have to tell me what you took,” he said.

Castiel’s usually alert blue eyes were wide and red and faraway, his lithe frame now wracked with shivers as Dean carefully propped him up on the lid of the toilet.

“Didn't take...anything,” Castiel said, again speaking with what looked like considerable difficulty. “Just…shots.”

_Fuck, fuck, fuck._

Had someone taken advantage of Castiel at the party, knowing he was an easy target?

“What happened?”

Dean was losing track of how many times he’d asked Castiel some variation of the question without getting any kind of straight answer. Castiel hadn’t stopped crying, and he was flexing his hands almost convulsively in his lap. He couldn’t seem to form complete sentences, his breaths sounding too slow to Dean’s worried ears.

Who could intentionally hurt someone like Castiel?

While less than a half-hour before Dean had felt resentful and irritated at his friend for the situation he’d apparently put himself in, he was realizing Castiel couldn’t be blamed for this. Cas had led a very sheltered life and was easily trusting when it came to people he considered his friends, that much Dean had always known. If someone had wanted to hurt Cas, it wouldn’t have been difficult if they’d known him at all.

When Castiel began to speak, Dean leaned inward to listen.

“I thought—thought it was fine. But...I could—couldn't move—I think I'm—bleeding." One of Castiel’s arms gave out from under him, and he slid further down against the tub and toilet, letting out a quiet pant of pain as his hips shifted. Fresh tears fell from his eyes.

The thing that uncurled in Dean’s chest felt like something dead and bulky and taking up far too much room beside his heart, and he found that knowledge was infinitely worse than fear had been. He had the sudden urge to yell something, anything. To keep himself from doing so, Dean held his breath.

Wanting to throw up, himself, Dean crawled toward Castiel and wrapped him in his arms. The relief that he felt when Castiel leaned forward and allowed Dean to hold him was so great he felt like crying, too.

Maybe five minutes later or thirty minutes later, Castiel fell asleep against Dean’s chest as they sat there on the floor.

He listened to Cas breathing; In. Out. In. Out.

In.

_Jesus. I don’t know what to do. What do I do?_

Out.

_Fuck. What do I do?_

In.

Dean bent his head, closing his eyes as he inhaled the sweet, clean smell of Castiel’s hair, still barely discernible through everything else clouding the air around them.

Out.


End file.
